


Cold Fingers

by orangelemon (etoilephilante)



Series: random moments out of time and space [1]
Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Fluff and Smut, M/M, Smut, soft smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-27
Updated: 2020-02-27
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:20:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22916122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/etoilephilante/pseuds/orangelemon
Summary: it only takes a few fingers and a lot of worshipping.
Relationships: Choi Jongho/Kim Hongjoong
Series: random moments out of time and space [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1680688
Comments: 4
Kudos: 72





	Cold Fingers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aguamenting](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aguamenting/gifts).



> hi!!!
> 
> i think this fic needs context : it was an old bts fic of mine that i am actually quite proud of, and wanted to show it to ako (@aguamenting read her fic, it's very good) so i wanted to make it a jongjoong because we are starved and in need of jongjoong, and then she decided to take matter in her hands and changed the characters herself, what a queen. so here's my contribution to our poor jongjoong nation by plagiarising my own work. the perks of this all is i got fed by myself just with a change of characters, magic.
> 
> please enjoy this soft smut. 
> 
> contains : top jongho, bottom hongjoong, and a whole lot of worshipping.

The bedroom is still mostly dark, thick curtains closed, but a gentle and warm orange light escaped from under the shield protecting the room from the inevitable reality of the morning. Under his bare feet, the floor is cold as Jongho walks with light steps to the bed, hair damp from his shower, cheeks, and neck red with the heat of the water. He bends over, softly leaving a light kiss on Hongjoong’s shoulder blade.

Hongjoong is laying on his stomach there, naked, thin arms hugging the pillow he hid his face in, with only a ridiculously crinkled white sheet covering his thighs leaving him bare enough for Jongho to enjoy the beauty of his curves.

The older shivers as Jongho runs a finger against his spine, tensing for a moment before sighing in contentment under the delicate touch, arching his back, seemingly trying to attract his boyfriend’s fingers to his ass. Jongho, mesmerized, only waits sitting down on the side of the bed, tracing constellations between beauty marks and freckles on the tan skin. They’ve got time.

Eventually, Hongjoong turns his head and blinks sleepy eyes at Jongho, who gently smiles, his other hand sliding in Hongjoong’s bed hair, tangling his fingers in his silky locks. “Hi there,” he murmurs, voice cracking with sleep. Hongjoong takes a moment to stare at the younger, at the creases in his pastel pink shirt tightly tucked in fitted black slacks. “Are you going somewhere?”

Still smiling, Jongho takes his time to answer, eyes wandering adoringly on his body, as he grips with a little something possessive his hips. He hums, “lunch with Wooyoung” and then giggles at Hongjoong’s frown, kissing him right between his eyebrows, making him grin.

“Then make up for it now, so I don’t miss you too much,” he says groggily, stretching his back in a catlike way under the tip of the grey-haired boy’s nails spiraling around the galaxy of moles there, moaning quietly, red strands of hair falling on his forehead. So Jongho provides with what he wants.

Hongjoong’s toes curl under the sheets when he feels the relieving pressure of cold bony fingers slipping between his ass cheeks with the sensuality of a snake convincing him to eat the apple. Jongho watches him with adoration as he tenses and relaxes, arching his back, heart beating in his rib-cage like thunder.

He instantly hates Jongho as soon as he feels him stop, whining and glaring until his boyfriend’s index and middle finger are against his plump lips, distracting him while he eagerly sucks on them, face red with excitement, still desperately pushing his hips back in need of friction.

But Jongho is always kind and always gives him what he wants, so as soon as his tongue is tasting the two digits in his mouth, two others, lubed, are circling around the rim of his already stretched hole. Hongjoong revels in Jongho’s touch, gripping the wrist close to his face with one hand and grabbing the sheets with the other to anchor himself in what’s left of reality in his head.

Spit drips on his cushion, but he doesn’t care. All he can think about is the pleasure, the pleasure, and the strong presence above him making him all his. He opens his eyes to see Jongho closer, and gazes up at him, eyes clouded as he bends down to kiss his cheeks and jaw. He whines and whimpers and huffs, Jongho’s lips feeling like electricity as he sucks marks on the nape of his neck.

But he grows tired, he wants more. Emptiness reigns his guts, a groan rolls in his chest, and Jongho laughs against the muscles of his shoulders, finally pushing two fingers in and the older sighs, neglecting the ones pressing against his tongue, face crushed in the fluffy cushion.

Only the satisfying burn of his rim matters right now, as Jongho stops teasing him and massages the bundle of nerves there that makes him a whiny, drooling mess.

The younger takes his time, always, nibbling on his skin, watching it reddening, worshiping everything about the man who’s giving himself to him.

Just watching Hongjoong like that, blissful expression on his face, spine so arched it must hurt, is enough to make his guts explode with love. There’s something about the yellow rays slipping from under the curtains softly lightening the room, the crumpled sheets covering Hongjoong’s legs, that feels like the universe has evaporated and them in this room is what’s left from it.

He takes his fingers back from Hongjoong’s mouth, and he doesn’t fight it, letting go easily, but slips his hand under Hongjoong’s chest to rest against the steady pulse he feels there. His lips continue to travel down until he’s kissing the small of his boyfriend’s back. He doesn’t go further down but keeps kissing and tasting.

Hongjoong is close, he gets frantic, moaning and groaning, shuddering as he clenches around Jongho’s digits. He’s pushing back and forth, rubbing as he can his flushed cock between his stomach and the mattress, unconsciously spreading his thighs. One of his hands is tangled in his own soft red hair.

He looks like a mess, and Jongho loves that, loves to see him letting go, to see him bite his lips with pleasure. To feel his heart beat so hard, it’s almost as if it’s trying to burst through his rib-cage. So he continues to massage and watches as Hongjoong comes undone under him.

The older’s feet push and push and his back tenses, and he’s sobbing as he comes, eyes rolling back with the impact of the pleasure that pierces through him like a bullet. Jongho smiles as he listens to him, panting his name, and he immediately removes his fingers when he feels him getting uncomfortable, coming to him, and ready to catch him and kiss him all over his face. “I’m here Hongjoongie, I got you,” he whispers against Hongjoong’s cheek.

Hongjoong sighs, in heaven, numb and ready to fall back into Morpheus’s arms.

**Author's Note:**

> i hope u enjoyed it, have a day
> 
> [twt](https://twitter.com/mingiopom)  
> [cc](https://curiouscat.qa/etoilephilante)


End file.
